


I'm Not Nervous!

by KH310-S (Author_of_Kheios)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: DBH Summer Exchange, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_of_Kheios/pseuds/KH310-S
Summary: Markus invites Simon to meet his 'father.'Meet-cute request for the DBH Summer Bang/Exchange I'm a part of. Check it outhere.





	I'm Not Nervous!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been doing too much angsty, smutty, serious stuff lately, I guess... It was a struggle to do something so lazy and sweet. smh

"Do you want to meet Carl?"

I look up in surprise, blinking out of a slower processor cycle; not quite stasis, but a step toward it. Markus is fully awake, temple braced on his palm as he watches me, heterochromic gaze drinking me in with that characteristic intensity that always makes my pump stutter and my thirium temperature tick upward a few fractions of a degree, warming my components.

"Meet Carl?" I echo, processors refusing to cooperate and pars out what he's asking. He smiles and my pump skips a cycle entirely, causing a small error message to pop up in the corner of my HUD.

"He's been asking about you," Markus hums, reaching out to trace the lines of my chassis, sending sparks through my wiring. I close my eyes against the bloom of emotion that forms from his touch.

"Me?" I manage at a whisper.

"Mm. In our last correspondence, Thomas said he's been wondering very pointedly when I'm going to bring you around for a visit."

"A visit." Not a question this time, but definitely laced with disbelief; I open my eyes again and take in the lines of Markus' face, neck, chest, arms... He looks so beautiful, with or without the synthetic skin, and I reach out as well, skimming one white finger over the gently pulsing circle of his regulator. He sighs softly in response, mismatched eyes falling closed for just a moment; through the nanosecond of a connection, I feel his adoration and desire: a mirror of my own emotion.

"A visit," he confirms, covering my hand and pressing my whole palm to his chest. A proper connection opens, and our emotions mingle in a pleasant sea of warm contentment. "He wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to each other."

"I want to meet him," I say, the words tumbling off my tongue before my processor fully registers the thought. My thirium temperature rises again, and I fidget uneasily. "I mean... Not like... What I mean is..."

"It's okay, Simon," Markus chuckles lightly, leaning towards me and touching his forehead to mine for a moment. "I understand. I just wanted to see if you would be willing to accompany me tomorrow when I go to visit, or if you'd rather wait for another time, if at all."

"Definitely at all," I reply immediately, my processor once again failing to filter my words properly. "That is, I want to..." Stopping myself with a faintly annoyed sigh, I give my processor a second to actually filter my words. "I would love to accompany you tomorrow."

"I'm glad," he says gently, shifting closer and releasing my hand to wrap his arms around me and tug me close against his chest. "I look forward to introducing you to my father."

...

My processor is at a 63 percent overclock, running simulations of every way this could go wrong. My components keep reflecting error messages that make no sense, increasing the level of concern and making warnings pop up on my HUD. My regulator is in a constant state of flux that leaves my pump stuttering every few seconds.

In simpler words, I'm panicking.

Markus lays his hand on mine, capturing it against the fake leather of the taxi seat between us. When I glance at him, stilling with curiosity, his gaze is still on the passing scenery, a soft, relaxed expression on his face.

The skin of his palm retracts, and my own skin pulls back reactively, opening a connection that floods me with reassurance and comfort.

"We're almost there," he hums lightly, gracing me with a tender sidelong glance that does more to ease the inexplicable tightness in my chest cavity than anything else. I take a much unneeded breath to give my processor something to calibrate against, and to steady the rhythm of my pump.

"I'm not nervous," I say, probably a bit too quickly. "Just... eager."

"I'm glad," he smiles. I know he knows I lied, but he doesn't call me on it, and that helps ease the anxiety. Silently telling myself over and over again to relax, I watch the scenery out of my own window, turning my hand beneath his to lace our fingers together and solidifying our connection.

The front door swings open the moment we come close to it, a warm but programmed voice greeting us with a pleasant "Welcome home, Markus," and then promptly surprising me with an added "And you, Simon."

"I see you wasted no time in changing the access codes," Markus calls out the moment he steps inside.

"Markus!" Carl greets eagerly, wheeling himself into the entryway from the main room across from the door.

Thomas follows a moment later, draping a cleaning rag over his shoulder and watching us passively; like me, he was built to put the needs of others before his own, and it translated similarly when he deviated. Surprisingly, the sight of him helps put me at ease, but analysing that coincidence yields nothing more than a failure and resultant confusion, so I push that aside and smile as Markus and Carl exchange a hug.

“And you must be Simon,” Carl beams, turning to me.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” I say politely, offering a hand. He takes it, but immediately pulls me toward him, and I have to brace against the back of his wheelchair to keep from falling onto him.

His embrace is startlingly warm and I relax into it without conscious processing, though he withdraws before I can shift to hug him back.

“You’re taking good care of Markus, right?” he asks, still gripping my wrist. I could easily pull free of his age-weakened grasp, but I don’t.

“Carl,” Markus chides, laughing softly.

“I- I try, sir,” I answer, thirium temperature rising point five degrees and regulator humming at a slightly increased speed.

“Good, good,” Carl smiles, releasing my hand. “I’m glad you two found each other, even if you strained my poor heart, getting shot like that.” The statement is teasing, and meant for Markus, who grimaces, but doesn’t quite stop smiling.

“It was unavoidable,” he hums. “And it all turned out well in the end, didn’t it?”

“That it did,” Carl chuckles, turning and gesturing for us to follow. “That it did.”


End file.
